


Going Through A Lot

by tjstar



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Burying a Body, Consent Issues, Corpses, Disturbing Themes, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Missing Scene, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Drug Addiction, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Possession, Self-Esteem Issues, Sleep Deprivation, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, tua s2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:13:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: After getting rid of the dead Swede, Raymond and Klaus talk about consent.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Raymond Chestnut & Klaus Hargreeves, Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves
Comments: 43
Kudos: 452





	Going Through A Lot

They're burying. 

It's been a while since the last time — in Vietnam — and Klaus hasn't missed that. Dead bodies are _indeed_ heavier, Allison was right; dead bodies are more _alive_ than you think they are. He knows it, he's an expert of All That Spiritual Shit, okay? He just rolled a joint using that nonexistent Spiritual Guru Certificate. The shovel leaves blisters on his palms, the ground is hard, and the Moon is so ironically bright. It's a miracle they didn't get caught on their way here. Well, Allison's husband is an excellent driver so Allison didn't have to rumor the police again, so they can bury the body in the middle of nowhere in Texas. 

Klaus feels sorry for Raymond; as if he ruined their evening plans. But in fact, the dead guy did.

"Sorry about the carpet," Klaus says. "It was a nice one."

Raymond laughs nervously. 

"This is not a family barbecue I imagined." 

"Oh, you did?" Klaus props his chin with the rough shaft. 

Raymond kicks a rock towards an improvised grave. 

"Do you…" 

Klaus shakes his head.

"He's not here."

Klaus looks at the darkness, the darkness looks back. Again. They're not the first and not the last ones who are hiding a body here — there’s a couple of ghosts hovering around already. But no dead IKEA mafia members. Klaus is pretty happy about it.

Allison is waiting for them in a car, lights dim, silhouette slouched forward with her head rested on her hands. Her grip on the steering wheel is too tight. 

"Did she…"

Klaus doesn't have to finish as Raymond explains.

"She didn't have a choice."

"Yeah," Klaus says. "I know. It's not your fault either, man, she saved our lives. Again."

Raymond smiles with the corner of his mouth.

"She's a real hero." 

"Yeah, she is." 

He knows that it's gonna take a lot of Allison's strength and self-control to stop blaming herself for what she did. She said she's not going to use her power ever again, but then she had to break her promise over and over again. In a violent way sometimes. 

The body is buried deep enough. They're tired enough to just wordlessly nod at each other and get back to the car to throw the shovels into the trunk.

"Are we good?" Allison asks. "It's my turn to drive." 

Far too cheerful; as a guy who used to fake joyfulness all the time, Klaus gets it. He climbs into the backseat, trying to relax, but tension and anxiety made themselves a home in his muscles, in his mind. He hasn't seen Ben since he had to expel him out of his body; since Ben said he regrets nothing. Klaus didn't remember that crazy journey, but there was his own vomit, lots of it, he can still smell it on his shirt. He feels gross, exhausted, _used_ — as if Ben wore him like a suit and then just left him on the ground, not even bothering himself with doing a laundry. Klaus looks at the seat next to him, almost waiting for Ben to appear, but he's alone here, having to deal with the consequences on his own. 

Ben said he liked that experience.

Klaus didn't, for sure.

They drive back to the Chestnuts' house in silence; Raymond tries to start a conversation with Allison, but her answers are mostly just "yes" and "no", so Raymond eventually stops distracting her. Klaus almost falls asleep curled into himself in the backseat during their ride, head lolling and body uncooperative in the most unpleasant way. He's been there before, in this state of mind, in this condition, waking up as naked as the person next to him. Klaus was too naive to think that he's left those memories in his past, on those soiled bed sheets and in those stinky shelters. His stomach contracts again, bile rises up his throat, and he's forced to sit up and seal his lips with his knuckles not to let it spill out. 

"Klaus?" Raymond catches his glance in the rear-view mirror. "Are you getting carsick?" 

Klaus manages to fight back an onslaught of nausea when Allison is about to hit the brakes. 

"No, I'm… I'm good, I'm good." 

"We can pull over." 

"Keep going," Klaus waves Raymond's offer away. He can handle it.

He can't see Ben. It's concerning.

Allison keeps staring at the serpentine-like road, and Raymond opens his mouth a few times to tell her something, but eventually decides against. 

Klaus leaves his comments to himself. 

***

He _gets_ a herbal bath, he doesn't even have to ask for it — Allison just shoves him into the bathroom, and says that she's gonna leave some clean clothes for him on the couch in the living room.

"Thank you, Ally."

He hugs her, and she gives him a strained smile. There's still some blood on Allison's sweater and under her nails, and Klaus can still feel the scent of the cemetery in the air. He's oh-so-familiar with it, he's wearing it like a perfume. And he's cold, insides freezing and skin crawling; Klaus breaks the hug, locks the door and looks around before undressing. Old straight cowboys don't quite enjoy seeing him naked; they say he's too scrawny, he has too many tattoos, whatever, whatever. A flask falls out of his pocket and clatters against the tiles; Klaus bends to take it — his back hurts, that dead guy was so damn heavy — there's still some whiskey left. On the bottom, on the _Klaus-like_ type of a bottom, he might add. He gulps it down, it burns his throat, and his busted lip is still throbbing. Klaus catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror — his reflection hates him. He understands. 

He plunges his worn-out body in the tub, sinking, sinking until his head feels light; the chain on his neck might choke him to death, he might exhale the water, he might drown.

"Klaus!" 

He emerges, he doesn't know whose voice he hears. Maybe it's that damn Jiminy Cricket, yet invisible. Klaus sighs and takes the shampoo and shower gels from the shelf — God bless Allison for this collection — and tries to convince himself that his eyes sting because of a soapy foam, not tears.

He knows Ben is about to show up anyway. 

"What did _we_ do?" Klaus asks both of them. 

If the first possession was accidental, the second time it happened it was non-consensual, but the third… _Was_ consensual. But it was the worst somehow.

Klaus heaves himself out of the bathtub and wraps a large fluffy towel around his torso, down from his armpits to his hips, he doesn't like to be exposed when he least expects it. Another one goes to his head, he ties it around his messy hair to dry them off. 

"You know you wouldn't have stayed awake if I left your body before we made it to the alleyway."

A bottle of lotion falls into the sink, suddenly too slippery in Klaus' hands.

"Jesus! Ben!"

"You _know_ it," Ben continues.

Klaus says, 

"I feel like shit." 

Still, even when his skin smells of Allison's moisturizer — grapefruit and hibiscus — his stomach threatens him to twist itself inside out once again. 

"Klaus, it's not that I wanted to hurt you," Ben leans his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just wanted… To feel alive again." 

"Yeah, right? You think I don't know? And I wanted to make it to that damn alleyway without spewing my guts in front of Five and Luther. I would have succeeded if you'd just left me alone a minute earlier." 

He's about to start hyperventilating, because his mind is apparently still claustrophobic. He felt trapped in his own body, clumsily operated by the ghost, stumbling and falling in the dirt — Ben loves dirt — but he wanted his control back. Now, Klaus tries to tell himself that this is fine, and this is not something that hasn't happened before; he's been through _that_ in a more sexual way, no privacy, no consent, but this time,

This time it was Ben. 

"Okay, I'm…" Ben sighs. "I'm sorry, okay? I thought you could handle it."

"I got a full-body contusion," Klaus mumbles. "Even worse than… Do you remember _that guy?_ Because I don't," he chuckles. "These are equal, you know? One moment you let _your deceased brother_ possess you, vaguely aware of the girl kissing you, and then you wake up God knows where puking your brains out."

Ben gasps,

"I would have never…" 

Klaus raises his GOODBYE hand. 

"I know, Benny, I know." 

"You don't trust me anymore, do you?"

Ben's being way too straightforward.

"I'm just tired," Klaus spirals out of the conversation. "I'm… I'm gonna go to sleep."

"You didn't _ask me_ when you said I wasn't there, Klaus." 

"Okay, fine!" Klaus feels a pang of guilt in his gut. "I'll manifest you so you can talk to our siblings, but _you_ promise that you'll stop harassing me about the whole possession thing? Okay? Deal?" 

Ben purses his lips. 

"What if we _need_ to do it again?"

"No _what-ifs,"_ Klaus groans. "Now please, shut up. I know I'm a sexy bitch, but can you just… Leave me alone?"

Ben says something about them figuring the shit out, but Klaus opens the door and nearly dies of a cardiac arrest once again.

"Ray?!"

"I just, um…" Raymond takes a few steps back. "I wasn't overhearing, I swear, I just wanted to make sure you're okay, because Allison told me you fainted earlier, and I was just…" 

Klaus interrupts the stream of Raymond's excuses. 

"It's fine, no worries. _I am_ fine, see? Alive and kicking, all that."

He really doesn't want to be a burden.

"You look like you need to talk to someone."

Klaus adjusts the towel under his armpits.

"Oh? I'd love to, but… You don't have to, really." 

Raymond follows him all the way to the living room aka the crime scene. And Klaus is not the only one who can't get rid of the horrifying scenes in his brain. Raymond waves his hand towards the couch. 

"Are you okay… To still sleep here? Or…"

"Ew! I'm not sharing a bed with you guys," Klaus winces. "I mean, you're hot, and all that, but it's just... Not right."

Raymond's eyes widen.

"Oh, God, I was… I was just gonna say that you could use a loveseat in the kitchen." 

"Changing the room won't _save me_ from the ghosts, you know." 

Raymond has certainly overheard Klaus' conversation with Ben, Klaus feels it in his aura. And, before Klaus manages to spiral out _again,_ Raymond blurts out,

"You know you have basic human rights?"

Klaus pulls on his most innocent face.

"What do you mean, buddy?"

And Raymond says something that Klaus doesn't expect to hear,

"We need to talk about consent."

Laughing it off seems like the only option since Klaus is going through a lot right now.

"Ray, don't get me wrong, but we just buried a Swedish carpet burrito in the forest, and all you wanna do is give me a sex ed lesson?"

Klaus flops down onto the couch, throwing Allison's bathrobe over his shoulders. The fabric is soft, and it smells nice, and if getting a lecture from Raymond is the price he's gonna have to pay for this luxury, then Klaus doesn't mind. 

"It's not… It's not _only_ about sex," Raymond says. "Your brother… He can _possess_ you, correct? He can _physically_ take control over your body."

He's serious, staring right into Klaus' soul. 

"Well, that's harsh," he admits. "I can't stomach him. Literally," Klaus huffs out a laughter. "He apologized."

Raymond nods, sitting down beside him.

"Good. Are you sure you can protect yourself?" 

"Here's a thing, Ray-Ray," Klaus fiddles with a loose strand of his hair, tucking it back under the towel. "I don't have this magical condom around me that wouldn't let ghostly parasites sneak inside, you know?" 

Raymond is obviously shocked by this creative metaphor, but he nods again. 

"Ghosts don't ask me what I want, just taking my energy which they think belongs to them." 

"And… So does your brother?" 

"No, it's different with Ben," Klaus says. "He's a VIP client. With privileges. Which have been _revoked_ today," he turns to Ben standing in the corner of the room.

"What happened?" Raymond asks.

Klaus thinks, _my brother possessed me to talk to his crush, but almost had sex with her while wearing my body like a pair of socks?_

Klaus doesn't want Raymond or Allison to think that death turned Ben into a heartless asshole.

Klaus says,

"I'm just sleep deprived."

He doesn't remember a half of his one-night stands: no names, no faces, no numbers. Just occasional bruises and torn clothes, all feelings numbed down with drugs and booze. Sometimes he was aware of somebody's hands on him, and sometimes he wanted them to stop. He asks the ghosts to stop too, but they never listen.

"He's here, right? Ben?" Raymond is not pressing on him, speaking so casually and sincerely wanting to help him. Klaus appreciates that.

Klaus' shell cracks a little. 

"The possession triggered some old memories. Sometimes…" he falters. "Sometimes I just _let_ people use me. Or well, ghosts. Just to prove that I can be helpful, that's actually my power, do you get it? Really, I don't even want to know how you guys treat claustrophobia and panic attacks here in the sixties, but," he looks at Ben again. "I don't wanna go through this again. Not anytime soon, at least. I need to adjust, and it's just… Overwhelming. Possession, my cult, the end of the world and _the body._ Good thing that one-eyed fella hasn't popped up here yet. I'm done with… With everything."

Not to mention that his boyfriend is a kid again, brainwashed by his blatantly closeted uncle.

Klaus doesn't know what to do after accidentally breaking down in front of Raymond; he rips the towel off his head, letting his hair cover his face as he hunches his back. It's such a good position for sobbing, but Klaus tries to suppress his feelings. Vanya would've blown the shit up already. But he's not Vanya, he's not even powerful — his abilities hurt him physically and mentally — and he should be the one to ask the others how they're dealing with the weight of responsibility on their shoulders. Klaus is carrying a ghostly world on his shoulders, and his spine is about to snap.

"Your feelings _are_ important," Raymond suddenly says. "All of them. You don't have to hurt yourself to prove your value. And all those _men_ who hurt you…"

"Gonna be struck by karma? Well, technically, they're dead in 2019," Klaus smirks. "Thanks for the therapy, Ray-Ray."

Raymond's words work differently on him — Klaus doesn't remember if his siblings ever asked him to stop destroying himself like that — gently, delicately, because he's a member of the Umbrella Academy, he’s their brother. Not because drugs are _bad_ in general.

"And in the end, I'm always doing what they're telling me; to look after my drunk brother, to let Ben possess me, be the lookout, and so on," Klaus adds, feeling a bitter taste on his tongue. "But it never goes well. And then I give my consent again." 

Maybe it's just too easy to break him;

Maybe he's too vindictive;

Maybe he just wants all of them to leave him alone.

He's done terrible things — stealing from his family, having sex for money, starting a damn cult by accident — he wants to stop. Get clean, get better, get one more chance to talk to Dave.

"Sometimes we get hurt by the ones we love," Raymond says. "When Allison told me about her power, I was terrified, I thought all my life was a lie, but… I love her more than anything. And I love _you,_ my accidental brother-in-law," he freezes with his hand at Klaus' shoulder level.

Klaus sniffles.

"It's fine, we can cuddle, I'm not _that_ touch-aversed." 

Raymond pulls him closer. 

"You can do great things, Klaus. Don't listen to the ones who say you can't. Even if they're your family. _Especially_ if they're your family."

Klaus looks at the bloodstain on the floor.

"I thought you weren't happy about having me as family, you know."

"We buried a body together," Raymond says. "We are definitely a family now." 

Klaus laughs, muscles convulsing and chest tight; Raymond's speeches haven't fixed years of trauma, of course they haven't, but they just give Klaus hope. He just needed to hear that, okay? His life changed a lot since he stopped selling himself in the streets, since he turned down a couple of his exes — one of them tried to beat him up for that — since he stopped doing the drugs. But _consent,_ or Klaus' give-them-what-they-want politics has never been a healthy coping mechanism. He just… Sort of used to say "yes" all the time. Otherwise he's gonna get forced to do something anyway, he knows, he tried. He tried to stay awake not to let Ben possess him, but then caved anyway.

He doesn't remember his first time;

Or his second time; 

Or —

"Klaus?" Raymond shakes him slightly. "You zoned out."

Klaus needs some time to get back to reality from his thoughts. 

"No, I'm just…" he rubs his temples. "You're so right, Ray. And... Life's so unpredictable. Mors certa, hora incerta*, my one and only slogan."

He needs to work on his barriers to separate himself from both people and ghosts. From _Ben_ maybe; he needs some privacy every once a while. And sleep, he needs sleep. 

"It was Hell of a night, yeah?" Raymond stretches before getting up from the couch. "Allison locked herself in our bedroom, I'm gonna go check on her."

Klaus is worried about her too.

"Yeah, sure." 

Raymond wishes him good night and goes upstairs. 

Klaus props himself up with a cushion and looks at Ben who now sits in the armchair.

"Hey, Ben," Klaus snaps his fingers to draw Ben's attention. "Don't you think we should buy them a new carpet for their anniversary?" 

Saying _"we"_ feels right; Ben half smiles half frowns. 

"Yeah, we should."

Ben never sleeps; Klaus knows that he's gonna be just sitting here and watching him, listening to him talk in his sleep until the nightmares overtake his mind. 

But he's got a few hours. 

**Author's Note:**

> * mors certa, hora incerta ((death is certain, its hour is uncertain))  
> \---  
> my tumblr: @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky  
> \---  
> thanks for reading!  
> comments/thoughts/s2 theories are very appreciated <3


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